


What I Did for Love

by oui_oui_mon_ami



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood, But Not Much, Car Accidents, First Kiss, Little bit of angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Panic Attacks, but not much of that either, forgive me lin, lots of fluff, ooc tjeffs??, possibly??, seriously this is so cliche what am i doing, the usual stuff, then again my tjeffs is usually ooc, which isn't a bad thing bc he's not a huge dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 23:52:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10797378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oui_oui_mon_ami/pseuds/oui_oui_mon_ami
Summary: To Alexander’s confusion, a pair of stars appeared in the corner of his vision. He looked up again, but the rain was still there, falling heavily on his car. And these lights were too low down and too bright to be stars. In fact, they seemed to be growing at an alarming rate.Then Alexander realised, too late, that they weren’t stars.They were headlights.Or, in which Alexander has a panic attack before driving home in the rain, and an unlikely character comes to the rescue.((Title from the song of the same name from A Chorus Line))





	What I Did for Love

**Author's Note:**

> how come i can write an over 4000-word jamilton fic practically in my sleep (seriously, I wrote this so that i could get to sleep) but when it comes to writing a 4000-word extended essay about classical epic poetry i reach infinite roadblocks?? ugh WHY
> 
> anyway, i don't have any ongoing fics atm - even though i have several ideas in the future ;^)))))))) - and i felt like i was neglecting my account so here have a oneshot ^_^
> 
> don't ask what this is. not even i know.
> 
> ((OOH ALSO suggestions for titles would be greatly appreciated bc the one I have atm is pretty crappy, so if you have any ideas leave them in the comments and i'll credit you if i like it ^_^))

Alexander heard the rain before he saw it. His pulse immediately started to quicken as soon as he recognised the pitter-patter of heavy raindrops on the roof of the school building, and he cursed himself under his breath for assuming that the good weather would last until he had finished working in the library after school. He checked his watch and sighed, already feeling angry and scared tears prickling behind his eyes. How could he have let himself work until six o’clock? It would be getting dark soon, and that would just serve to make matters infinitely worse.

As he made his way towards the door of the building, the cold, damp wind came to meet him. Through the door, the sky was overcast with dark grey cloud, and the tarmac was even darker with the water that had already fallen. Steadying himself on one of the pillars that supported the roof of the grand porch at the entrance to the school building, Alexander glanced around the almost empty car park. There were only a couple of cars still there, one of which looked way to obnoxiously expensive to belong to a student. He let out a shaky groan as he spotted his own car – a small, ancient Beetle – at the far end. There was no way he would be able to get to it without getting drenched. And then driving home… in this weather…

The sky suddenly flashed with bright white lightning, and a clap of thunder followed almost immediately. Alexander jumped at the light and sound, tears escaping down his cheeks now. At once he was catapulted back into his car. Three weeks ago.

_The rain pounded the windscreen of the car, and Alexander turned the volume of his music up to tune it out. He bobbed his head in time with the beat and hummed the tune. It was getting dark outside. Alexander would have taken the opportunity of driving home in the dark to look at the stars in the sky, but tonight the clouds had completely blocked his view of the night sky._

_Alexander liked the stars. Back home, in Nevis, the lights of the town were never bright enough to obscure the stars, and Alexander had taken every opportunity to stargaze and wonder what was really out there. By the time he was twelve, his mother had taught him the names of every constellation in the sky, and he could spot his favourites – Orion, Scorpio and the Big Dipper – at a single glance at the stars._

_To Alexander’s confusion, a pair of stars appeared in the corner of his vision. He looked up again, but the rain was still there, falling heavily on his car. And these lights were too low down and too bright to be stars. In fact, they seemed to be growing at an alarming rate._

_Then Alexander realised, too late, that they weren’t stars._

_They were headlights._

_Alexander gasped and jerked the steering wheel to the right, swerving away from the oncoming car. He almost breathed a sigh of relief as the car whizzed by harmlessly before he felt his own car’s wheels lose their grip on the wet road. He slammed on the brakes but the car continued to spin, coming off the road and crashing into a hedge. Alexander was thrown forward, his head banging against the steering wheel before his seatbelt could save him._

_Then, all was suddenly silent. The relentless tapping of the rain on the car roof was the only sound. Alexander’s vision was swimming and he felt detached from the rest of his body. The only thing tethering him to consciousness was a dull throbbing on his forehead. Slowly, he lifted his hand to it and felt wetness on his fingers. Yet the windscreen was, miraculously, undamaged. He gasped as he drew his hand back to look at it and saw red. Blood._

_His blood._

_“Holy shit,” Alexander muttered dazedly before darkness consumed him._

“Hamilton?”

This new voice pulled Alexander back down to earth. He hadn’t realised that he had curled up on the steps outside the school building with his knees pulled tight to his chest, nor had he noticed that he was making the knees of his jeans wet with his tears.

“Hamilton.”

The voice was back, and more firm this time. With it came a hand, followed by one, then two arms around Alexander’s narrow shoulders. The arms pulled Alexander into someone’s chest, and he buried his head into the warmth that had now surrounded him, still crying.

“Shh, it’s all going to be okay,” the voice soothed. Hands came up to smooth through Alexander’s hair, and the immigrant relaxed just a little.

Wait a second.

Alexander knew that voice.

He jerked back to stare at the last person in the world whom Alexander would expect to be comforting him. “Jefferson?” he asked incredulously.

The Virginian’s expression had lost its usual cockiness, and he was instead searching Alexander’s face with something akin to worry. “Hamilton,” he repeated, this time with an air of relief. “What happened? Why are you still at school?”

Alexander didn’t want to answer either of those questions. Honestly, he wanted to run as far away from Jefferson as possible. But he was just so tired. He simply groaned and rested his head back on Jefferson’s chest.

Jefferson’s hand found Alexander’s hair again and he ducked so that Alexander was forced to look at him. “Hamilton, please tell me something. I want to help you. You’re really worrying me here,” he whined.

Alexander avoided Jefferson’s eyes. “Since when did you worry about me?” he joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Jefferson brought a hand up to Alexander’s face to softly wipe away the tears from his cheeks. Alexander shivered, unused to such gentle behaviour from the tall Virginian. “Since I found you crying outside the school building at almost seven in the evening. How long have you been out here? You’re cold as fuck.”

Alexander had been crying for nearly a whole hour? That almost sent him off on another wave of sobbing if Jefferson hadn’t wrapped his arms around him once again. Despite his mind screaming at him to get the fuck away from Jefferson, his enemy, the man he’s despised since the beginning, Alexander clung to him as if he was the last thing keeping him from shattering into a million pieces.

Jefferson chuckled lightly, but not maliciously. “Okay, let’s get you home,” he said.

“But the rain…” Alexander protested weakly. “And… my car…”

Jefferson shook his head as he helped Alexander up, supporting the smaller man with one arm. “I’ll drive you,” he said matter-of-factly, as if that was the obvious solution.

“You really don’t have to do that,” Alexander stammered.

Jefferson shrugged using his large magenta coat to shield both of them from the rain. “I know, but I’m a Southern gentlemen, and Southern gentlemen always offer help to damsels in distress.”

“You slammed a door in my face the other day,” Alexander managed to deadpan.

Jefferson sniggered sheepishly as they made their way quickly through the rain to the obnoxiously expensive-looking car that Alexander had spotted earlier. “Touché,” he said, unlocking the door. “I’m also a dick.”

Alexander climbed into the passenger seat. Jefferson closed the door for him and sat in the driver’s seat. “What’s your address?” he asked, tapping on a high-tech screen on the dashboard of the car.

Alexander rattled it off. “Your car is so obnoxious,” he added.

Jefferson smiled lightly as he tapped the screen a few more times. “Well, they do say that cars clearly reflect the characters of their owners,” he replied. “What kind of music do you listen to?”

Alexander shrugged. “Any, really. Pop, classical, jazz, you name it, I probably have a playlist for it.”

“You like musical theatre?”

Another shrug. “I’ve never really listen to it much,” he admitted. “Everything I’ve heard is just way too happy. And why do they just start singing halfway through a conversation? I just don’t get it.”

“Too happy, huh?” Jefferson asked, raising an eyebrow. “I think we can fix that.”

As the Virginian started the car, music started to play from the speakers.

_“September first, nineteen eighty-nine. Dear diary, I believe I’m a good person.”_

“What is this?” Alexander asked.

“This is you being educated on musical theatre,” Jefferson replied. “This one’s called _Heathers_.”

Alexander simply nodded and listened to the lyrics. Soon, however, his eyelids became heavy and he felt himself start to drift off into unconsciousness.

Jefferson turned the volume of the music down and reached over to squeeze Alexander’s hand lightly. “Get some sleep. You must be pretty tired,” he instructed. Alexander happily obeyed.

\---

“Hamilton.”

Alexander was jerked awake by a firm hand on his shoulder, and he found himself staring bleary-eyed at Jefferson.

“We’re at your place,” the Virginian explained.

Alexander grunted and opened the door. Thankfully, the rain had dried up enough so that he didn’t get soaked through immediately, but he still had to take in a shaky breath before getting out.

Jefferson was at Alexander’s side at once, supporting him all the way to his front door. “Are you going to be okay?” he asked when they reached the porch.

Alexander nodded. The worst was over now. “I just have to deal with my dad,” he said. George would definitely be worried about him for staying out late without calling.

Then he decided to surprise Jefferson with two words neither of them would expect to say to the other. “Thank you.”

Jefferson’s eyes widened, and he simply nodded wordlessly. His hands found their way back to Alexander’s shoulders and he pulled him in for another hug. Alexander hugged back, tightly, breathing in the smell of Jefferson’s cologne. When they separated and eventually Jefferson drove off, both of them had a small smile on their face.

\---

Alexander was running late.

Even later than normal. The alarm on his phone hadn’t gone off that morning, so it wasn’t until his dad gently shook him awake that he rejoined the land of the living.

“Son, it’s time to get up,” George cooed, watching Alexander stir, then bury his face into the pillow to try and block the sunlight.

“What time is it?” Alexander mumbled into his pillow.

“Half past seven,” his dad replied.

Fuck.

Alexander shot up, cursing under his breath. He only had half an hour to get to school, and he didn’t have a car because it was still parked outside the school building. He was going to have to skip breakfast and practically sprint in order to make it in on time.

He pulled on the nearest pair of jeans and an oversized hoodie and raced to the door, grabbing an apple as he passed the kitchen. George looked up from where he was making his own lunch to take to work. “Sorry I can’t take you into school today,” he said, “but I have to be in on time for this meeting.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Alexander replied, waving it off. At least the sun had reappeared after last night. The light reflected yellow off the damp pavement as Alexander walked briskly towards town, and he shielded his eyes from the glare. His backpack felt even heavier than usual today, and so did his feet. He was still exhausted from yesterday. He didn’t even want to think about yesterday.

A car honked behind him, making him jump, and a familiar obnoxiously expensive car slowed down to drive beside him. The window was rolled down to reveal Jefferson – speak of the devil – grinning at him coolly from the driver’s seat. “Thought you might want a lift to school,” he called.

Alexander ignored him and continued to walk. He wasn’t just going to be a pity case. He could handle himself. Even if it did make him late for school.

“So… you wanna get in the car or not?” Jefferson asked. Not impatiently, as Alexander had expected, but more in anticipation. If Alexander hadn’t known Jefferson, he would have called it nervousness. But Thomas Jefferson didn’t get nervous.

“I don’t need your pity,” he called, starting to walk a little faster now.

Jefferson kept pace with his car. “I’m not pitying you,” he said. “I’m just being your friendly neighbourhood Southern gentleman and offering you a lift to school. Now you get in the car like a good little shit or I’m just gonna keep driving right next to you for the entire journey, and that’ll just make both of us late.”

Finally, Alexander sighed and gave in, throwing his backpack into the backseat before sliding in next to Jefferson. “I still don’t need your pity,” he muttered.

The journey began in silence before Jefferson broke the ice after a few long minutes. “So what happened yesterday? Why were you crying when I found you?”

“It’s none of your business,” Alexander replied. This was just what he had feared: that Jefferson would ask endless questions until he had all the information at his disposal. Everyone would know about the accident, Alexander’s fear of driving in the rain – or just the rain in general – the fact that it was Thomas Jefferson, his enemy, who was the one to step in and save the day.

But Jefferson simply nodded. “That’s fair. I was just wondering how open you’d be with that information. But it’s none of my business, you’re right. Just know that if you ever want to talk about it, I’d be willing to listen.”

Alexander laughed bitterly. “Careful, Jefferson,” he said. “You’re beginning to sound like you care.”

Jefferson frowned over at him. His eyes were shielded by aviator sunglasses that probably cost more than Alexander’s laptop. “Contrary to popular belief, I do care about you,” he said softly.

Alexander didn’t reply. He stared out of the window and watched the houses whizz past. After a couple of minutes Jefferson turned on some music.

_“Again. Step, kick, kick, leap, kick, touch. Again…”_

“What the fuck is this?” Alexander asked.

“A Chorus line,” Jefferson replied, bobbing his head to the beat. “One of the best dance musicals in history. And not too bad with the music either. Now, the story is interesting. Instead of focusing on the star of a show, like most other musicals of its kind, it tells the stories of the chorus members, the ones who never get the spotlight but have worked just as hard, if not harder than the stars.”

Alexander watched the Virginian talk with a smile on his face. It was nice to see him get so involved in a topic of conversation that didn’t involve insults being thrown left right and centre.

Then realisation struck him. He hadn’t fought with Jefferson the whole of last night and this morning. This had to be some kind of record for them. And there had to be a reason for it.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” he asked.

Jefferson stopped bobbing his head to the music and frowned over at him. “What?”

“You haven’t picked a fight with me in over twelve hours. Why?”

“To be fair, neither have you,” Jefferson reasoned.

“I’ve had more pressing things on my mind than making fun of you,” Alexander retorted.

“Makes two of us,” The Virginian muttered under his breath.

Alexander decided to ignore that comment and press further. “But seriously, why are you doing this? You didn’t have to comfort me last night. You didn’t have to drive me home. You certainly didn’t have to drive me to school this morning.”

“Hamilton, I-” Jefferson tried to cut in to make a feeble excuse, but Alexander steamrolled on.

“Don’t tell me it’s out of pity. Because I don’t need your pity. I don’t need anyone’s pity. I’ve been through some tough times, but I am not weak and I don’t need you to feel bad about me,” he spat.

“I don’t pity you. Well, I guess I do, kinda, I mean, you must have had it pretty hard and I empathise with that, but that’s not why I’m helping you,” Jefferson stammered. “Fuck,” he added under his breath.

“Then why are you helping me?” Alexander cried, tears of frustration threatening to spill onto his cheeks. They were just entering the school car park and Jefferson found a space near the building.

“Can’t I just be nice to you for the sake of it? I can be a good person, you know!” Jefferson shouted back. So much for them not fighting.

“You’ve never been a good person to me, though, not until yesterday! There has to be something else. Please, Jefferson, just tell me!” Alexander begged.

Jefferson threw his hands up in the air. “Fine! You really wanna know? It’s because I’m in love with you, asshole!”

That stopped Alexander short.

Before he could recover, Jefferson was out of the car and marching towards the school building. Alexander gaped after him, and it wasn’t until the Virginian had disappeared through the great double doors that he realised that his shoulders had been shaking.

\---

Alexander couldn’t focus during the day. He had barely arrived to homeroom on time, and he spent the rest of school thinking about Jefferson.

Who apparently loved him.

Love was an unfamiliar concept to Alexander. He had loved his mother, of course, but she had died years ago, and Alexander had been brought to America and put into the care of George Washington as a result. He loved George as well, but he missed his mother.

As for romantic love? He thought that he had gained that with Eliza a couple of years ago, but it turned out that they were better off as friends. Alexander had still cried himself to sleep that night after they broke up. But at least Eliza was happy now with Maria Lewis. Thomas Jefferson, on the other hand, was something completely different. He had immediately hit it off with Eliza, yet he had almost got himself into a fistfight with Jefferson the day they met. It wasn’t the last time that happened, either.

However, the more Alexander thought about Jefferson, the more he realised that there was something more to their friendship – if you could even call it a friendship. Nowhere had he found someone else with the same intelligence and dry sense of humour as him, and although not a day went by without them fighting over something or other, Alexander always found himself looking forward to his classes with Jefferson just so he could see him. And there was that flippy thing his stomach did every time Jefferson smiled or laughed or did anything remotely cute hat could only be described as… what? Not as strong as love, but surely romantic attraction in some way.

He needed to talk to Jefferson.

And he was planning on talking to him, if only he had turned up to debate club that day.

“Madison, have you seen Jefferson?” he asked just as the club was about to begin. Usually Jefferson strolled in almost as early as Alexander with his sickly best friend in tow.

Madison grimaced, unsure about how much information to reveal. “He’s not coming to debate club today,” he replied. “I think he was feeling quite ill.”

Alexander didn’t know whether to be disappointed that he wasn’t going to see Jefferson or relieved that he wouldn’t be able to confront him today. “Oh. Has he gone home?” he asked.

Madison shrugged. “I don’t think so,” he said shortly.

Alexander was distracted during the whole of debate club. His team still won, of course, but it was a lot harder considering Alexander could barely think of anything else apart from Jefferson. He spotted Burr giving him a couple of strange looks, but he ignored him. As soon as Professor Adams had dismissed them, Alexander slipped quickly out of the classroom and into the car park.

He scanned the few cars left and was relieved when he spotted Jefferson’s obnoxious car in the same spot he’d parked in that morning. That meant he was still in the building. Now, where would one go if one felt sick…?

The school was almost empty as he rushed back down the corridor, and the last few pupils and teachers gave him odd looks as he walked in the opposite direction to them. He quickly veered into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

The room was silent as Alexander checked the stalls. Only one was locked, and he peered under the door to see someone sitting on the floor. Someone with shoes almost as expensive as that car he rode in that morning.

“Jefferson?” he called softly?

There was a sharp intake of breath, followed by a muffled “fuck”.

“Jefferson, if you’re in there, and I know you are, can you let me in?”

There was a pause, and Alexander began to wonder whether he had overstepped a line. But then the lock clicked and there stood Jefferson. His hair was messier than normal and his face was red and blotchy, indicating that he had been crying for quite some time. “Go ahead,” he spat hoarsely. “Laugh. Tell everyone that I’m weak and I’ve let you break me. Go on, ruin my entire reputation. God knows I deserve it.”

Alexander frowned. It physically pained him to see Jefferson like this. Past the point of being vulnerable, this guy looked like he had given up entirely. “I’m not going to laugh,” he said softly.

“Why not?” Jefferson’s eyes were wide, like an animal caught in a trap.

“Because you’re hurting. And I know what that feels like. I want to help.”

“To return the favour?” Jefferson asked bitterly.

“Because I care about you,” Alexander replied. “And I may… kinda like you.”

Jefferson stepped forward hesitantly, doubt still written all over his face. Alexander opened his arms, allowing the taller man to step into an embrace. Jefferson wrapped his arms around the shorter man and rested his head on Alexander’s, breathing in the scent of his dark hair. It was then that he finally allowed himself to let go. Alexander held him tightly as he sobbed, cooing gentle words to comfort him.

Eventually, Jefferson pulled back to stare at Alexander. “You… like me?” he repeated, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

Alexander nodded. A small smile ghosted over his features. “It took me a while to realise, but I really do, Jefferson. Even if you can be an asshole sometimes.”

“Takes one to know one,” Jefferson chuckled shyly before he looked back into Alexander’s eyes. “Can I- can I kiss you?” he stammered.

Alexander could barely think enough to nod his head. But he did, and Jefferson immediately closed the distance between them.

Alexander was surprised to find that Jefferson’s lips were soft. He had expected everything about the man to be rough, with hard, straight lines and pointed edges. But Jefferson’s lips were soft. In fact, his hugs were soft as well. Alexander found himself wanting infinitely more of Jefferson’s touch than he could have. Jefferson kissed equally hungrily, and Alexander was happy to counter the force.

They broke apart after what seemed like both years and milliseconds, gasping for breath. Alexander looked up at Jefferson giddily. The Virginian was looking back at him with pupils dilated and a soft smile on his face. His fingers softly brushed the hair back from Alex’s face. Suddenly, they faltered and Jefferson’s expression turned from one of dazed happiness to one of focused worry. “What’s this?” he asked, fingers brushing over the scar on Alexander’s forehead.

Fuck. Alexander had forgotten about that scar from hitting his head on the steering wheel in the crash. He had decided to simply hide it from everyone instead of having people ask endless questions about it. Like Jefferson would undoubtedly do now. “Um,” he began eloquently. “You know how I was crying yesterday because I didn’t want to drive home in the rain, but I didn’t want to say why it was such a big deal?”

Jefferson nodded warily, his grip on Alexander’s shoulders tightening slightly. “Yes…”

“Well…” Alexander decided to say it quickly and painlessly, like ripping off a bandage. “Igotintoacarcrashintherain,” he mumbled quickly.

Jefferson was still frowning. “Say that again?” he asked. “Slower, this time.”

Alexander took another deep breath. “I was driving home in the rain three weeks ago when I got into a crash. I hit my head pretty hard.” Tears began to prick his eyes as the memories flooded back.

Suddenly, arms were wrapped around him again, and Jefferson’s face was pressed into his shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re safe now, though,” Jefferson said. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Actually win in debate club for once?” Alexander suggested, causing Jefferson to let out a wet laugh.

“I love you, Alexander,” he said, pulling the shorter man closer to him. “Can I call you that now? Alexander?”

They had always been on last-name terms. It gave Alexander a sense of power, being able to spit Jefferson’s name out like an insult. But his first name rolling off Jefferson’s tongue sounded like a chorus of angels to him, and he shivered involuntarily. “Yes, you can,” he replied, hugging the Virginian tighter. “And I don’t really know what love is, at least not in the romantic sense, but if what I’m feeling for you is it, then I never want to stop.”

“That’s all I need to hear, darlin’,” Jefferson – no, _Thomas_ – whispered into Alexander’s hair. Alexander sighed happily. Sure, they still had their problems, and their life wasn’t going to be perfect from now on just because they’d found each other; they were both still pretty messed-up people. But at least now they could be messed-up together.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! comments and kudos are always appreciated <3
> 
> hmu on tumblr: sunshine-soprano


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